A Frozen Rose
by Pvt. Bear
Summary: On-going Original Story as told by a dying outlaw If you were looking for a simple story of adventure and romance, then keep on moving; for my story is not of that nature. This is more than just a simple tale, this is my testament that all will read or hear. It is of betrayal, love, pain, adventure and much more that plagues one's life. Now what is it you asked me?
1. Though I was a soul in pain

My name? My name doesn't matter, if it did I would tell you.

Please, please wait! Don't leave yet, I need to tell you something important! Don't leave! Someone has to know, a young life is at risk to hang if I don't confess my story now!

Thank you for staying. Promise me you will get this to a judge, a newspaper, anyone important as…as soon as I finish. I can't destroy another innocent life.

Don't worry about this. It's only a flesh wound nothing serious.

Are you ready? You should write this down.

Ch. 1

The rain fell to the ground as if God had opened a hole and decided to drain all of heaven on the earth. Honestly, it was the perfect time to carry out our plan; cattle rustling, but not just from any poor rancher. We went for the best, the king of the San Joaquin Valley, Murdoch Lancer.

Upon a cold soaked stone I lay, awaiting the passing midnight hour. Rain found its way passed my slicker and into my once warm clothes. I shivered, more from excitement rather than cold for in just a few minutes, we were about to take one thousand head of cattle! How grand it sounded when a ranch hand of the Lancers called upon me to serve as their protector. For anyone who knew of my reputation would say I was faster than the so called gun hand Johnny Madrid. There was a rumor he was residing in this part of the land, laying low, but that didn't faze me; well not at the moment anyway.

I lit a match and looked at my pocket watch, the rain drops sliding down the front did not mask the hands which lay upon the hour of midnight. Grabbing my Winchester rifle and placing it into the crook of my shoulder, I waited. It echoed across the land; gunshots, yelling, and the frantic cries of cattle. So much that the president of Mexico could have heard it, such wonderful sounds of the night. As I listened to our progress, the low rumble of hooves could be heard resounding from the Lancer main house. The silhouettes of horses were outlined in the dark amongst the black scenery. It's not hard to guess how big a man is on the back of such a beast, just aim a little higher than you would and bam, you got him dead to rights in the darkest conditions.

The animal reared as the bullet crashed into the man's chest jolting him backwards. Fire exploded from seven directions as revolvers and pistol were torn from their holsters. A loud voice boomed directing men to take cover. As they took up defensive positions another man screamed from a bullet piercing the flesh of left breast. Again, the weapons spit fire into the rain toward the direction of stone where a flash of light was seen. A young man split from the rest, he raced up the side of the cliff careful not to make a sound. Slowly he advanced upon the sharpshooter listening and watching for his movement.

I was no fool to fire from just one place, moving around and keeping the enemy on its' toes would be the best option in this terrain. I pressed my luck, though, and fired two shot from this hidden position. The scream from my latest victim assured me I had found my mark. Carefully I slid, on my stomach, from this position and slowly headed back the clearing. Although painfully difficult in the rain, I managed to stay mostly quite. The animal I had left hours prior remained standing beside an old, moss covered tree. Hesitation was never in my nature, but something warned me not to go at first. My foot hit the grass and into the clearing I stepped. So peaceful everything was, you could hear the rain hitting leaves from every direction. Lightening raced across the sky, the beauty stunned me. I followed its' run down toward the hill where it struck.

The sound made the horse side step, it was use to gunshots so it did not shy too much. Bright red blood spilled upon the wet grass, mixing as the rain steadily fell. My back sponged up the ground instantly. I looked at the hole just below my rib cage, singe marks still smoking showed that a .30 caliber entered my body. The sound of feet hitting wet leaves came close to wear I lay, but already I had painfully rolled on my stomach and begun crawling to my horse.

"Hold it mister." A calm voice followed by the click of a pistol said. "Hold it or I will shoot."

I could not contain the laugh that swelled up in me. "You…you done already shot me, what's the point of giving me a warning now?!"

He stepped closer, I pulled the Winchester closer to me.

"Let go of the rifle or you will find another bullet lodged in you." The calm voice seemed to hold steady. I lay on my stomach, a slight dizzy spell had begun. My horse stood so close, if only he would step to his left a little I could use the stirrup to pull myself.

"Well if you are all fired up in putting another into, go right ahead. You don't scare me.."

"Lancer, Johnny Lancer."

"I been shot by a Lancer. Well that's embarrassing." He grabbed the back of my slicker and pulled me up to where my stomach was now pinned against my saddle. I slid the Winchester in the scabbard to show that I accepted defeat, for now. The weakness in my body consumed what strength I had left. I turned my head slightly to catch a glimpse of this new Lancer, rumors of him had resonated across California. Again the lightening flashed, my eyes widened.

"Madrid?"

It came as a whisper for my body gave up.


	2. Some love to little, some love too long

Ch. 2.

The aroma of a freshly baked crisp apple pie delighted my senses. A woman's voice humming such a sweet tune danced off the clay walls. She twirled as she sprinkled sugar upon her creation. Beside the door, a man stood smiling. He grabbed at the woman and they danced in the kitchen. Great laughter filled the house as they tripped over the dog and fell to the floor. A small child stepped through the door from the outside covered in mud. Soon the entire family was smeared with mud as the child jumped onto the pile laying on the floor. A shot echoed throughout the house and the man lay gasping for air as blood exploded from his throat. It coated the inside of his mouth and spilled over on the grassless earth. The crying child looked up from the grave from which it had standing.

"Daddy!"

I breathed deeply and opened my eyes just a slit to observe my new surroundings. I could feel it, cold and wet, slowly appear from the corner of my eye. I let it fall for it had been some time since this feeling of sadness washed over. Upon a bright white pillow my head lay, above the brown clay ceiling reminded me how bland life was. I heard no noise, but the birds which flew free outside, singing their songs of hope. My mind attempted to erase the dream that plagued me and brought forth a tear that had been trapped within myself for years.

Pushing up upon the bed, the pain racked my body and I bit my lip causing blood to flow. A white bandage wrapped my side, a dark red stain just below my rib cage reminded me that I someone shot me. I looked around the room for my clothes, but nothing of mine was found. I looked once again at my bare chest and sighed. Throwing the covers off, I placed my feet upon the cold floor.

A doctor once told me when I was shot, from a buffalo hunter some years back, that I was bred to be stubborn. I say anyone who has Irish pumping threw their veins is going to be born stubborn. I shuffled my feet toward the drawer and smiled by what I found inside. The pants were quite itchy and were a size too big, but I did not care for I had to escape from this luxurious prison. Just as I had buttoned up the dark blue shirt, soft footsteps approached the door. A small white hand pushed through the door followed by a woman wearing a yellow blouse and black, floor-lengthen skirt. Her wavy brown hair covered one side of her face as she stopped abruptly as the bed that held a body when she left was now empty. My hands were still gripping the top button as she looked over at me. My eyes fell upon her and then shifted over to the unmade empty bed then back upon her.

"Morning!" She happily said while taking a step toward me.

"Morning." My voice was harsher then I meant it to be.

The young woman took another step toward me smiling.

"The doctor said you need to stay in bed for a least a week to heal up properly."

Without hesitation and with some sassiness in my voice I replied,

"Oh, I bet he did! But I have an appointment to make, so really I must be off." I grabbed the jacket from the hanger and stepped toward the door.

"The sheriff still needs to come by and get a statement. Again, you were shot and need to rest." Her voice was a little sterner this time and her eyes narrowed.

"I appreciate you patching me up. I won't press any charges against your brother for shooting me for the help. I just need to get my horse, my hat, and I will be on my way!"

"You press charges against us! If anything, we would press charges against you!" She cried back. An older white haired man appeared behind her. My hand slid down to where my gun belt should have been just out of instinct. He stepped into the room and grabbed the woman's shoulders.

"Teresa, Scott is waiting for you in the study." She wrinkled her nose at me and narrowed her eyes before turning and storming off. I obliged and stared her down as she went. Slowly my narrowed eyes returned to the old man. He sighed and sat down in the chair beside the bed.

"Six hundred head of cattle are missing. They were taken a few nights ago by a band of rustlers. As my sons and some of my hands went to go handle the situation, someone ambushed them. I have two men dead and many questions that need answers." He interlocked his fingers and placed them on his right knee. His eyes flicked on me.

"What were you doing on Lancer land when my son found you?"

"Wow, no introduction to who you are. Slightly rude Mr. Lancer, slightly rude. You seem to be a bright old man, I am sure you will figure it out." I paused and shifted my stance. "This is not my first interrogation, Mr. Lancer. Your fake caring demeanor can be shoved back where it came from." I stepped forward pointing my finger at him. "If you thought I did something, I would already be watching life behind bars. Yet, I see I am here." I walked to the window and placed my arm on the sill.

"You are here because you were injured and needed care." Murdoch replied anger spewing with his words.

"Yet, you said just a few seconds ago and I quote 'a few nights ago'. So why am I still here?" I yelled back at him. He stood up suddenly and clenched his fist. We stared each other down.

"Murdoch?" The soft calm voice broke the tension and we both looked at the new visitor. He had a rough personality, but his blue eyes revealed what lay underneath. For a brief second my anger disappeared and sense of relief rushed over me.

"Hello Madrid." He looked over at me. His eyes swept up and down me then went back to Murdoch.

"Yes, Johnny?" The old man replied.

"The count of stolen cattle has risen. We have lost close to nine hundred head."

I smiled and nodded my head much to the displeasure of the men in front of me.

"You think that's funny?" Madrid replied.

I looked at him smirking. "Funny? No, that's quite upsetting. I mean I would be devastated to learn that a bunch of rag tag cowboys stole almost one thousand head of cattle from right under my nose." I turned and smiled at Mr. Lancer. "But then again, I don't have that much cattle or that much money so I would call this daring feat magnificent!"

"Come on Johnny". They both turned and headed for the door. I stepped closer toward Madrid and raised my voice.

"Never thought I would see the day Johnny Madrid would hire out for a rich guy!"

He turned quickly and we squared up face to face.

"The name is Lancer, Johnny Lancer!"

"Good." I replied nodding my head. "Well, when you see Madrid give him this message for me then!"

I turned slightly away and then threw a right hook at his chin. He stumbled back and stepped up holding his fist up, hurt and anger in his blue eyes.

"If you anyone else." He whispered. Mr. Lancer grabbed his son and dragged him from the room.

"If I was what? A male? You still won't hit me you coward!" I grabbed my now sore hand as they exited the room. The birds, outside the window, had flew away, scared from the commotion inside. My mind flashed back to the little child. She was running down the hill, her little braids flapping in the wind. Her father lay on the ground, his legs twitching as he gagged on his blood. Tears streamed down her face as she ran to her father. He reached out and grabbed her braid leaving a smeared blood stain on them. He attempted to speak, but blood sprayed out upon her face. His legs stopped twitching and the gurgling, choking sound ceased. His brown eyes rolled toward her, but the father which she had known was gone.

She grabbed at the rifle at the ground and attempted to raise it at the rider as he cantered away. Only half way she raised it before it fell to the ground, the weight to much for a young child to bear. Her screams filled the empty fields and vacant house. Tears streamed down her face as she shook her father's limp corpse. Scream after scream for him to wake up was met with silence. She curled up next to her father and grabbed his cold, bloody hand. From the sky, the first snowflake of the season fell. It touched her pink cheek and melted.

"Daddy, please!" She whimpered.


	3. A coward does it with a kiss

Ch 3.

I watched, as if I was a bird of prey, as the Lancer family worked on their ranch; breaking wild horses, mending fences, and gathering lumber for a new barn. It was not until the fourth day of staying on my perch that I realized one of the ranch hands was watching me. He stayed by the trough, twirling a piece of straw around his middle finger. Brushing some dirt from his trousers, he tilted his hat and shook his spurs before walking away.

The crescent moon slowly slid behind dark grey clouds. It was at this moment I knew I would be safe to make my decent. I walked quietly to the balcony and swung my leg over. Slowly, I lowered myself down making sure to bite my lip whenever the stabbing pain arose from my wound. Three lousy feet, that is how far I was from the ground. To some that would be an easy jump, but try falling that far with a bullet hole in you! I lay on the ground gasping for a few minutes before slowly pushing myself up. With a slight limp I walked toward the barn; then I heard his voice. It was low and slightly aggressive.

"Well, the rumors are true. Heard there was some wild cat the Lancers took in. They asking you anything?"

I stared at him, anger filling inside me. "Well, yeah Tucker they are asking me questions! Think they are just treating my wounds for the fun of it?"

He stepped closer. "I asked you a question, don't play games with me girl!"

"What? You don't like my answer? Maybe you should ask a better question! Like, how come it took you almost a week to get back here? Wouldn't JP be asking what happened to me? Or did you all think you could double cross me?"

Tucker's top lip curled and he grabbed my shoulders. "Don't play smart with me. We had to split those cattle up. JP did ask about you that is why I am here, to check on you."

"You are here to make sure I keep my mouth shut. You're right Tucker, I am smarter then you. You try anything against me, I will tell the Lancers."

His nostrils flared, his eyes widened, but Tucker stood still and slowly released his death grip. He backed away and walked back to the bunk house. I watched as he went inside before collapsing to the ground. My back pressed against the barn wall, my elbows propped on my knees and my hands clasped together pressed against forehead. Tears streamed down my face, more out of anger then sadness or fear.

Out of instinct, for whenever I was angry or scared, I would ride a horse. She perked her ears up as I entered her stall. Her nostrils blew warm air across my face and she stomped her hoof. I opened the stall door, grabbed her black mane, and swung up bareback. We trotted out together into the cool air, the crescent moon once again appearing behind the clouds. We turned toward the pastures, I let my horse have here head. I could feel the energy flow through her as the trot became and gallop. Just like me she was tired of being coped inside.

The wind blew through our hair until we stopped by an old, burned tree. I slid from my horse as she walked toward a nearby stream. It was at this moment I realized how alone I was. The scream bellowed from the depths of my stomach out of my mouth. It was supposed to be a simple job, how did I end up stuck between betrayal and an old memory? JP was never one to cross, nor was he one to cross a crew member. After all these years, would he consider me, a woman, part of his crew? The question swirled around in my head as I stoked a fire beside the tree. I chewed on a small stick as I watched the sparks dance in the night. Then my mind floated back to Johnny Madrid or as he would like to be called Lancer. Rubbing my sore hand, I came to the conclusion punching him in the face was a childish act. My father would have swatted me if he had known his daughter had done such a thing. Yet, I would have been much more a lady if my father hadn't been murdered. My father liked Johnny, he never had a son before. Maybe that was the problem, he trusted that Johnny had become part of the family. I pondered the events of that day in my head once more.

"Luna, stay by me. I can't have you wondering off". The animal lifted her head at her name and walked back toward the tree. I laid down and watched the stars shoot across the night sky. My eyes slowly closed as the moon once again slinked behind a cloud.


	4. Yet Each Man Kills the Thing He Loves

Ch. 4.

"Murdoch won't be happy knowing you sneaked out during the night!"

His serious toned voice brought me out of the darkness behind my eyes. I opened one eyelid to find Johnny Madrid leaning over his horse smiling at me.

"Does it look like I care about how your father feels?" I pushed myself up against the tree and rubbed my arms. Johnny slid off his horse and knelt beside the burned out fire.

"You should. He is the one keeping you out of prison."

"Never asked him too." I pushed past Johnny and swung up on Luna. Johnny sighed and pushed his hat back, placing his hands on his hips.

"Have you always been stubborn or do you just not like accepting help from people?"

I swung Luna back toward the Lancer farm. Orange sun rays graced the sky.

"I don't know Madrid, have I?" He was left standing in dust as Luna galloped off.

It seemed Johnny was the only one who knew of my midnight ride. Mr. Lancer and his sons along with a dozen ranch hands rode off in search of the stolen cattle. I lay in the newly made bed listening to the young woman Teresa hum a song while cleaning dishes. My body began to drift off to sleep when I heard a dog bark and then a pot smash. The humming ceased while the dog bark continued.

I could not tell you how I made it so quickly to the ground floor or how I found myself between a rabid dog and the young woman Teresa, but there I stood with a log in my hand ready to defend my "prison guard". Her hands gripped my shirt as the drooling mongrel slowly stepped forward. I swayed side to side beating the log into my right hand; under my breath I whispered "come on". I knew inside the rifles were locked up, but yet had not found where the key was hidden.

"Teresa. I need you to slowly walk inside and get me a rifle." I could feel her tremble as she released my shirt and started toward the door. It watched her, its' head bobbing up and down. The bald headed, gray animal looked back at me. Its' eyes blood shot, white foam crested around its' dry mouth. I knew before it happened that the animal was going to attack. I brought the log down upon its' back, a sharp cry resonated in the courtyard.

"Come on!" I yelled. It turned sharply, causing me to stumble on a rock. The log held it at bay. I watched the jaws snap open and closed inches from my face, the sharp claws attempting to scratch my chest. Then from within, a feeling of anger and fear exploded from my arms. I threw the beast off and jumped on top, holding the log under its' neck. Its' naked body wriggled against mine as I choked the life from its' body. Throwing the limp body down, I stood up and brushed the dust off. Teresa stood in the doorway holding, with her trembling hands, the rifle I needed. I walked toward her hand out reached, but she raised it.

I saved her life and now she was going to kill me? Did she not realize that I was no threat? Her lip trembled and she pointed behind me. I heard grunting and coughing so there was no need to turn my head. The beast had come back to life, ready to take me with it to the depths of hell. I walked quicker to Teresa and pulled the rifle from her hands. By the time I turned around, the animal had begun its' slowly death march toward us. I racked a round into the chamber and fired. It pierced the flesh above the heart, but the beast continued the march. Again I fired, fear creeping into my mind. Again, the beast did not falter. With Teresa, clinging onto my shirt and the fear that this beast, no, this demon would not stop, I emptied the remaining bullets into the body until the demon bled from everywhere. To ensure our safety, I then took my thick wooden log and smashed the head of the creature in. With each smash, my mind flashed back to the day of living with my uncle. His axe swinging down, striking the poor animal. The cries filled my mind as well as tears filling my eyes. I dropped the log upon the bloody mess and walked away. Teresa's voice calling me in the back ground. I stood taking slow deep breaths attempting to calm myself. A small hand fell softly on my shoulder, I looked at it briefly before shrugging it off and walking back toward my room.

Entering the house, the steel chain which connected the gun rack was still unlocked. The beautiful rifles waiting for someone to pick them up and shoot them. I turned back toward the stairs which led to my room, returning my eyes to the now locked rack before heading up the stairs. My head hit the pillow just as the sound of horses entered the ranch.

" _Cricket! Cricket!" I remember seeing him running toward the barn. Uncle Dillard was in the barn, he despised Cricket. Called him unspeakable names and told me if he ever caught the dog messing around the chickens again he would kill him. Uncle Dillard drank, he drank more when Aunt Lilly died. She was his and now I was his, but Cricket was mine. I remembering running to the barn. I stepped in hearing my puppy cry. Uncle Dillard took the axe above his head and swung it down. I saw the blood splatter and the puppy cry again. I took the shovel and smashed it down on his shoulder. He swung around, the butt of the handle smashed into my head leaving a gash. He stumbled out of the barn dropping the bloodied instrument of death. I crawled over to my dog. His brown fur stained red from head to toe, deep gashes slashed open his stomach revealing his entrails. Cricket attempted to raise his head when he saw me, tears flooding out when we connected eyes. He was a pup my dad bought, the last connection I had to my family, stolen away from a man who called himself my uncle. I held the dog's head and told him how much I loved him. One last kiss from him, one last kiss from me. My hand slid to his neck, it was over in a few seconds; no struggle, no more pain. I buried him under the rose bushes that Aunt Lily planted years back._

Footsteps echoed up the stairs, I looked up to see him standing there.


	5. I never saw a man who looked

Ch 5.

The cool breeze blew through my roughly, braided red hair. I watched the creamy white clouds bounce against the robin egg colored sky. The rough wooden buckboard did little to comfort me as we traveled the path toward town. The scuffle with the demon animal had opened the stitches of my nearly healed wound, thus causing fresh blood to pour out. Behind me, I heard the strong voice of Teresa explaining to her brother of the events and how brave I was to face the demon. I bit the edge of my thumb as she described how I beat the demon's skull back into hell. It wasn't out of fear, nor was it out of anger, I bit my thumb because it kept me from looking at Johnny to see how he would react. Barranca, Johnny's horse, was tied to the back of the wagon, how I wished I could take him and ride alone. Teresa continued to explain, in every small detail, how she felt and how she wished she could be just as brave as me in those type of situations. I caught, out of the corner of Johnny's eye, and an annoyed look. He was actually getting tired of his sister's talking; I stifled a laugh. Her voice eventually was tuned out as my mind started to guess the shapes of the clouds. I hummed a tune my mother taught me while she baked; it made time fly faster. I zoned out, listened to the Mexican music in my head, pretending I was dancing like the ladies from the cantinas.

Teresa attempted to assist me into the doctor's office, but my stubbornness kicked in and I pushed her away. The old man looked from his desk as I hobbled in and sat in a chair. Teresa began her story once again. My eyes fell upon Johnny who rubbed his face and leaned against a post. His gaze slowly fell upon me and he shook his head as Teresa continued. I couldn't contain the half smile that escaped from my face. He began to chuckle as, he too, realized how crazy Teresa had become with this story. The doctor finally interrupted the young lady to ask if she was injured. The young woman bit her lip thinking, before stating she was fine. The doctor then stated how she would be better off buying patterns for a new dress then explaining the story further. Once she exited the office, we all gave a sigh of relief. The doctor began to dress my injury, for hopefully, the last.

"You know, if you cleaned up a bit, wore some dresses; you could be an attractive young lady!"

I looked at the doctor slowly, my eyebrows narrowing and my head tilting to one side.

"You know, women weren't made to wear pants! That's a man's clothing!" He stated again. I opened my mouth to say something before shutting it once again. My fingers intertwined and I smiled, my top teeth biting my lower lip while I nodded my head.

"You know doc, I've travelled to tons of places and found lots of people wearing pants and lots of people wearing dresses. Yet, in all those towns, I never found a man; just a whole bunch of scared women. Even now sitting here, as I look around this town, I still haven't found a man." I smiled and looked at him staring through his round glasses.

"Now, if you think by what a person wears defines them, then you should stick to doctoring cause you clearly don't know anything else." He finished bandaging me in silence. Johnny had gone with Teresa, he instructed me to wait at the office until they returned, but he had to have known that I was not going to follow his commands. I hobbled from the office and embraced the sun's rays. The air smelled of fresh cow manure mixed in with the scent of lavender. A unique smell, an interesting smell; I wrinkled my nose regardless. I hobbled toward the general store. Half way there, a bunch of cowboys stepped from the brothel. One looked in my direction, lifting his hat and placing it on his chest he yelled.

"Goodness me! What did we stumble upon here? Look boys it's woman, no it's man. No, it's just a freak!" They all laughed, slapping each other on the back. I looked down wishing I had my pistols to teach them a lesson they would soon not forget.

"Oh, look you are making it cry!" Yelled another. A small crowd had begun to gather, women and men whispering to each other. I looked up at them, my eyes narrowing. The doctor had given me a sturdy wooden cane to help my walking.

"Oh look, what do I see? Its twiddle dum, twiddle dee, and you must be the loud mouth chimpanzee! I heard the circus had come to town, but didn't believe it till I saw you clowns! If you are looking for more, then go back to your tiny whores. For you ain't getting none of me, because I'm this red haired thing called a lady!"

The crowd erupted with laughter and applause. The cowboys stood stunned, unsure with what to reply. The odds were never in their favor, they never really stood a chance, yet the loud mouth ran at me; ready to punch the truth into me only to be met with a cane to the stomach. I lunged into his full speed sprint which hurled him back toward the ground. His friends desperately attempted to fight his battle only to be met with a furious attack of my cane. I felt like a swordsman defending a position against the invaders. My cane fell upon arms, legs, heads, and even connected with a groin. Furiously I spun around, ready to attack my next victim; with the cane above my head and my two hands grasping it firmly I swung. It smacked against the porch post, I looked down to see Johnny crouched. He stood quickly, smiling and laughing.

"I think they understand you are a lady!"

I looked down at the bloody and battered bodies. I spit on them before hobbling with Johnny toward the dress shop. The crowd had continued laughing and cheering during the fight, they slowly dispersed as I walked away. As we neared, I saw the blacksmith had a sign offering puppies. My curiosity got the best of me, I mean who could walk past a sign stating puppies and not go and see them. There were three remaining; a black one with white paws, a brown one with white paws and then the runt of the litter. He was quite smaller than the other two, but he was the most unique. He had black floppy ears with a mostly black face. A white streak started from the top of his head to his snout. His paws were brown and he had a brown splotch on his chest, the rest of his body was covered in greyish black and white spots. I weighed my options, it had been such a long time since I had a dog of my own.

"Do you want one?" The soft voice of Johnny whispered in my ear. I turned sharply, I forgot how quietly he walked.

"That runt looks cute, doesn't he?"

"He is. You want him?" I shook my head "no" before turning back toward the dress shop. I feared loving again; it hurt to love, hurt to lose. I watched Teresa pick her favorite print out, chat with the other young ladies about her ordeal, then look at hats. Johnny popped in and told us to hurry they had to get back to the ranch. I hobbled to the buckboard as he was loading the last flour bag. The bags at least made the seating more comfortable! Teresa was helped onto the buckboard. Johnny attempted with me, only to get his hand slapped. We started off toward the ranch, I laid back looking at the clouds once again. My eyes closed as the endless ride began. My eyelids flew open and I jerked to the side. A wet thing had touched my elbow causing panic to shoot through my body. It cried at my sudden movement, I looked over to see the runt attempting to crawl toward me. I looked at Johnny's back, my mouth open, expecting him to turn around, but he didn't; he made no recognition of me or this puppy in the wagon bed. Tears filled my eyes and my breathing quickened. It had been years since I had something to call my own, granted Luna was mine, but it was never like she showed me love every day. She only got excited when I fed or ran her. I slowly lifted the pup, it nibbled on my nose.

"Hey pup." I whispered to him. I sat against the flour and held the pup against my chest attempting to hold the tears from streaming down my face.

"Don't worry Spero, I got you. I got you."


End file.
